Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (14 page)

After what felt like a full mark but was only a minute at most of talking and prodding, the old man shook his head sadly and looked at her. “I am sorry, lady, there is little we can do. This is too grave a wound. I doubt if he’ll even wake up.”

The old man next to her snapped straight. “Surely you can heal him. This isn’t a simple hospice. Please, you must save him,” he pleaded.

The healer laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I am sorry; this wound is beyond our abilities. I will do all I can, but I doubt it will be enough.”

The old man snapped. He pushed the healer’s hand from his shoulder and bolted through the inner doorway, yelling, “Lady, save us! Lady, save us...”

The healer motioned for the acolyte, who was looking at him for guidance, to follow. The acolyte ran after the old man, calling out for him to stop. Turning back to Ticca, he shook his head. “Are you alright M’lady?”

She nodded, “I’m just the hired help to get him here to save him. What if he woke up? I have heard wizards can mend themselves?”

“Alas, very few can do so, and also I seriously doubt he’ll ever wake again.”

If he doesn’t wake then I probably won’t get paid. Not that it was really that big of a deal.
She mulled over staying or not as the tall healer turned his attention back to the wizard.

Ticca watched curiously as he retrieved a basket filled with bandages and surgical tools. He then carefully cut open the wizards clothing around the knife before laying out a number of bottles on a small table brought by an acolyte. Taking a long, thin, hollow reed that had a bulb on one end, he squeezed the bulb, inserting the end of the reed into one of the smaller bottles. He then carefully inserted the tip into the wound next to the knife and squeezed. The wound began to bubble pink-white liquid mixed with blood. The healer then took a longer, flexible reed and pushed it carefully down the wizard’s throat; quickly, the healer used another bulb to push fluid through the reed. The wizard coughed a little as the healer carefully pulled the reed back out.

Waiting for the coughing to stop, he checked the wizard and frowned deeper. The wound had stopped bubbling out the pink foam. Looking concerned, he took yet another small vial and moved to a position where he could pull the knife out and pour the contents of the vial on the wound at the same time. Just as he grabbed the knife a cry came from the doorway, “Healer Antis, STOP!”

Looking annoyed for a moment he turned, and seeing who had addressed him, he went a little white. The healer straightened and bowed his head, “Your will, Great Lady. I am doing all I can to save this man.”

Curious, Ticca leaned around him to see the newcomer better. It was a noble lady, followed by several other acolytes. She was Ticca’s height, with a round, pale face and long, thick, slightly curly black hair. She was in a long, forest-green robe, decorated with flowers and fruit hanging from the borders. She also wore a dark green mantle, drawn from behind, over her shoulders and up from behind her waist knotted in an X on her chest. Her arms were bare and muscular. On her forehead was a slim silver tiara with a fine oak tree for the center piece. Balanced in her hand sat an oversized, delicate-looking egg of gold, silver and gems. The egg was not solid; in fact she could easily see through it as it was a complex of gold and silver threads. As she strode up to the bed Ticca noticed that the device was actually an intricate sculpture with small leaves and vines. What was wondrous was that the device held a glowing yellow sphere of light that felt oddly warm and comforting, like lying out in the sun on a warm day.

The healer openly stared at the device. “Great Lady, you would gift this mage with Dalpha’s Light?”

The Lady smiled. “This man is a direct servant of Lord Argos.” Looking back at the doorway, she added, “I was told of his need, asked to assist, and personally deem this a righteous act of charity.”

Ticca glanced at the doorway and straightened up at the hint of a green skirt, cream-colored blouse and auburn hair slipping quickly back through it.
Was that Sula?

Stepping out from behind the Great Lady, the older man who had cried for help looked worriedly at the wizard. Taking note of the gesture, the Great Lady turned her attention to the wizard as well. “Yes, well, you have done an admirable job so far. Let us finish this together; I need assistance.” The five acolytes with her moved to positions around the bed. She moved to stand next to the wizard on his right, leaving the healer where he was. Everyone but the healer knelt; Ticca, deciding it was best to not look out of place, also knelt.

The older man stepped up. “May I assist?”

The Great Lady smiled. “Any servant of Lord Argos is welcome. Kneel at his head, hold it steady and offer up any prayer you may have.” The old man took his position as instructed.

Then the Lady held the glowing egg over the center of the wizard’s chest and began to vocalize, a pure beautiful melody of sounds. All the acolytes present knelt and joined in. The glowing light grew brighter and brighter until Ticca had to look down. The warmth of the light was wonderful to feel, and Ticca felt uplifted and joyful at the sounds of the chant, the warmth of the light, and even the light’s intensity.

When the light became too much to bear she closed her eyes and felt a presence growing closer.

- - -

The sun was full in her face, its warmth comfortably baking her. Sighing, she knew she should finish the work, but it was so nice. From a short distance away the children were playing with a fox, their laughs like delicate silver bells ringing joyfully through the glen. Sitting up, she opened her eyes. Before her, the boots had not miraculously finished themselves. The low table was organized with her leather tools and materials.
I really should finish those boots for him. Then of course I’ll have to get him to wear them.
Laughing at the absurd look she knew she’d get for suggesting he discard his favorite boots, she picked up the almost completed journal.

Marks flowed by as she wove the materials together into another fine journal. She enjoyed the comfortable feeling the energies of her people and the world gave her as she worked. The energies bound the woven paper, leather and resin glues into a single whole object. She smiled as she carved the intricate looping knot patterns into the covers. Finally, she held the completed journal up and inspected it in the late afternoon sun.
A beautiful work; it will make an excellent gift for our guest.

Taking the journal with her, she left the unfinished boots for another day and moved through the forest village to the gathering place. Laughter, music, and talk could be heard long before getting to the feast. The tables were set out in the open with large fires at each end. The smell of roasting vegetables and meats made her mouth water. Naturally the Shar family had brought significant amounts of sharre to the feast, and it was being enjoyed by all. At the high table sat most of the family elders.

She took a place at the makers’ table and enjoyed the evening’s entertainments. Dancers, acrobats, and bards flowed throughout the evening as easily as the sharre and platters of food. As the feast went on she kept looking for her love but she could not find him, nor was he with the servers.
He must be here someplace, how could he miss this?
Then she noticed one of the masked acrobats dressed in flowing saffron silks and her heart told her it had to be him. She clapped and yelled support as his troupe performed amazing feats with ropes, knives and balancing. At the climax she laughed as he showed off performing the difficult knife dance of the firebirds with his silk costume streaming in intricate patterns. She even gasped with everyone else when he ended it with a mighty show of knives and torches spinning so fast that the mirrored edges flashed like the stars in a wind storm of fire and silk. He ended it by throwing all six knives high in the air and letting them come down blade first around him as he bowed. The knives passed his head and arms close enough to flutter the silk sleeves and his long hair. He remained looking down until the last knife had passed, embedding itself at the end of the neat row of hilts at his feet. She blushed when he winked at her as he exited.

As the evening wore on it came time to present her gift. She stood and made her way to the high table. Giving appropriate nods to the heads of the families, she stepped up in front of the great mage. He looked to be about middle-aged, for a human, though she knew that he had been coming to their forest for more years than most humans could hope to live. He looked at her and laughed his deep, full-bodied laugh. “My word! Can this be Kliasa, who bounced on my knee and wouldn’t let me stop?”

She blushed and bowed appropriately. “Great Lord Magus Vestul of Argos, you do me honor to remember me. I have made this for your honor and for my family’s thanks to you for helping end the war and save our forests.” Placing the journal on the table, she bowed again.

The great mage actually looked slightly embarrassed by the act and his eyes showed a hint of tears. Magus Vestul reached out and picked up the journal and inspected it as she awaited his word. He carefully inspected the binding, cover, materials and then he noted the engraving of Lord Argos’s seal on the front. His hands almost lovingly traced the patterns. “This is a wondrous work! I am most pleased with this gift. In fact I declare this to be my most prized gift of the feast. I shall use this only for the most important of research and notes, and will treasure it for all my life. Thank you Kliasa, daughter of House Elaeus.” He stood and put the journal in his pouch of fine leather with the silver disk clasp. “It fits perfectly.” Smiling, he reached out. “May I have the honor of the Moon’s Dance with you?”

Glancing right, the matriarch looked like she was so proud she would burst. The matriarch nodded affirmative and she bowed again and accepted. The Magus was amazingly graceful as he danced the Moon’s Dance with her. At the end he gave her a fatherly embrace and whispered in her ear, “I think someone is awaiting the next dance.” Winking, he motioned with his head to his left. Looking the way he motioned she saw her love smiling and clapping to the music but his violet eyes were following her every move.

She walked with the great Magus, who limped slightly, back to the head table. She looked at him for a moment and he waved his hand. “Don’t worry, it is just that my feet are killing me! These shoes are just too tight.” Kliasa smiled to herself.
I’ll fix that on your next visit.
Bowing a farewell, she said, “Thank you for honoring us, Great Lord Magus Vestul of Argos.” He smiled and she turned back to the dance circle, looking for her love. He was there waiting, he had changed back into simple green leggings and the horrible boots.
I really need to finish those boots for him. Maybe I can steal those ugly worn things when he is asleep. I bet his grandmother would help me.
She approached him and he bowed deeply. “You do me honor to allow me to follow our Great Lord Magus.”

Smiling, she took his hand and he pulled her suddenly very close. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine as he said softly in her ear, “Your gift really was magnificent, it must be your finest work ever.”

She closed her eyes and let the exhilaration of pride lift her to the heights as her heart pounded thunderously in her ears and his breath warmed her soul.

- - -

A soft musical voice came to her. “You may stand.” Ticca opened her eyes, her heart still racing. She looked around, confused for a second.
This is Dalpha’s Temple. Something just happened. I was dreaming again.
A couple of acolytes were cleaning blood from the floor, two others were helping the healer who looked like he was drunk or about to pass out towards the inner door, the old man was still kneeling at the wizard’s head obviously praying, and standing next to her was the Great Lady of Dalpha herself with four other acolytes in attendance. She held the golden forest egg, which still glowed with an oddly warming soft, white light.

Ticca stood up a little shakily.
What happened? Did I pass out?
Looking at the wizard she saw there was a scar in his chest where the knife and once been, and his chest was rising and falling normally. He looked like someone who was just taking an afternoon nap, if it wasn’t for all the blood that surrounded him on the bed and floor. “I’m sorry Great Lady, I didn’t mean to be inattentive.”

Smiling, the tall woman looked her over fully, stopping for a moment at the dagger hanging on the front of her belt. “You are a Dagger. Are you employed by Journeyman Lebuin?”

“Actually by his servant I think. I am not exactly sure at the moment. Things moved a little fast.”

Nodding knowingly the Great Lady placed a hand on Ticca’s shoulder. “You are touched by Lady Dalpha and Lord Argos. I believe greatness awaits you…?”

“Ticca of Rhini Wood.”

“I know Rhini Wood. Are you related to Faltla?”

Ticca’s eyes snapped to look at the Great Lady. “Yes, he is my Uncle. You know of him?”

Smiling widely, the Great Lady nodded. “I knew I had seen your dagger before. It’s his dagger, isn’t it?”

Ticca nodded and touched it lovingly.

“Actually I know Faltla personally. He was a great Dagger himself until he lost his arm and toes in the war. I was a healer then and treated him and many of his companions. In fact I was the field healer that sewed him back together and brought him here when he was injured in that last battle. Did he train you?”